Just A Matter Of Time
by Hazardous Hollz
Summary: It's all just a matter of time...before the world ends, before frictions start to ignite...before our favorite hot tempered redneck finds out just what love is all about.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer- I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters or the comic by its creator Robert Kirkman i only own my own ideas situations and OC that do not appear in the TV series i will try to be true to Daryl's character and TWD character's as well i will also include many places and situations found in the Tv series hope you like it! :D **

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><p><strong><em><span>Just A Matter Of Time by Holly Holland <span>_**

The way I saw it somebody must've pissed God off really bad for the world to end up the way it has now. No one believed that this could've happened. Who knew the Bible thumping hobos and sci-fi enthusiasts were right? Everything happened so fast, people were dropping like flies. They flooded the hospitals in a matter of hours died. The problem was that they didn't stay dead. That's when all hell broke loose. They don't teach you what to do when your deceased patient comes back alive to take a bit out of you. As soon as I heard the news I high tailed it out of there cleaned, out my bank account and bought plenty of supplies. Luckily my truck was reliable to get me out of town. At least my father was good for that much. I thought life ended that day, little did I know that at age 25 the world ended but my future was just beginning.

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><p>Well…damn this wasn't good. Grunting, I collapsed backwards clutching my shoulder, thick warm blood soaked through my thin cotton shirt and between my fingers. Glaring at the middle aged man that shot me, I calculated my options. I could either lung for my gun and risk getting killed, let him have his 'way with me, like a good little girl', or just get myself killed. Whatever course of I decided to take I was screwed either way.<p>

"Now be a good little girl n' give me the keys," A sick twisted smile deformed his lips, black eyes glinted. "and while you're at that take off your pants." He waved the small handheld gun for emphasis. I swallowed the bile that was building in the back of my throat and squeezed my bleeding shoulder.

"I'll shoot your other shoulder instead lil' girl if you don't hurry your little ass." Again my companion hissed cocking back the hammer. I could really just kick myself right in the face for letting this happen. Me and my stupid conscious I should have never pulled over to help what looked like a wounded fat man. I've always wanted to be a nurse and I was going to college to be one before the world went to hell. I've always had a soft spot for hurting people. Deciding my plan I shakily started to unbutton my stained jeans. I could hear his heavy breathing, and smell the sweat pouring off of him.

"This isn't how I pictured my 25th birthday to go." I whispered not caring if George heard me. Matter of fact I kind of wanted him to.

"It's your 24th birthday today! Well it's your lucky day," George licked his cracked puffy lips. "I'll treat you nice and gentle, darlin' don't you worry your pretty little head."

"I was picturing more of a nice summer party, in the backyard with my family and friends," Jerking my tattered jeans past my scrawny hips with one hand I kept my eyes trained on George who wheezed heavily as he watched. Dizziness slowly tilted my vision, warning me that my time was running out. I needed to make my move one hand still staunching the blood flow from my shoulder I took my jeans completely off and dug in my front left pocket till I felt the keys.

"Come on lil' girl I don't have all day!" George growled heavily stepping forward. One…two…three…four. Throwing the keys at George I launched myself to my gun. Thankfully for my bad throwing skills the keys arched over Georges head. Just as he stumbled back to catch them I skidded across the cement floor, grabbed my gun, turned and fired. George toppled to the ground in a heap of dead, sweaty and stinky flesh. The world tilted over itself as I tried to straighten myself out. I crawled over to my jeans quickly put them on then slowly after I fished out my small pocket knife. Blinking rapidly to chase the dizziness away I quickly slit the front of my shirt and tore a three inch strip before tying it around the wound to stop the blood flow.

When the world finally stopped spinning long enough I grabbed my keys, guns, George's shoes, belt and shirt. There was a little blood splatter on his shirt, but in today's world a little was considered good. Even though George tried to steal my truck, supplies, and rape me it didn't feel right to take from a dead man. Then again times have changed and now you never know what could keep you living from day to day.

"Happy birthday to me." Sighing to myself I stepped around the large puddle of blood and bits of brain matter. Making my way through the door, I headed to my truck. My shoulder throbbed, the backs of my legs and back ached. The world started to tip again as I reached the red cage of metal and glass that served as my home and protection. The signature low moaning of a walker caught my attention. It was a young business women…her blonde hair was falling out in clumps. A pearl earring was missing from her left ear, her jacket was missing and her peach blouse was shredded, burned and stained, her trousers were in the same condition of her shirt, her ankle was broken but she was still walking…a shoe was missing. A few months ago the sight of her appearance would have startled me. Her open decomposing mouth torn bits of flesh, exposed bones and grayish skin would have sent me into shock. Now it's normal…they don't give me as many nightmares as before.

I raised my gun aiming straight between the eyes but thought better of it. I've already wasted one bullet and I needed as many as I could have. I shouldn't waste it on one walker. Swallowing against the hard lump in my throat I hoisted myself up into my home, shut the door, started the engine, put Betsy in reverse, waited till she was directly behind me and gunned it. The impact caused me to jolt forward. Thump…thump….Shift…thump…thump. Sighing I sped around cars and through the semi-crowded streets of a small hometown. "Happy Birthday To me…Happy birthday dear…"

After I was confident enough that I wouldn't run into any walkers I pulled over to rest, and clean myself up. I tacked up linen to cover the side windows and started to work on my shoulder. Clamping my teeth onto the belt I slipped the makeshift tourniquet off my shoulder, wincing a little as the dried blood pulled skin around the wound. I reached into the glove box and grabbed a bottle of vodka I had found in town. It burned my throat as it went down; instead of using my real antiseptic I used this. Alcohol was sort of easy to come by, but any real medicine is a different story. Thoroughly cleaning my knife I went to work on my shoulder. I cut around the wound to make it large enough to dig out the bullet. There's something disgustingly settling about digging around in your own warm flesh for a bullet. Helped me remember that I'm alive.

The world spun around for a few minutes until I finally pulled the damn thing out. It wasn't as deep as I thought so I knew it didn't hit a major artery. That was a good thing too, I didn't need to draw any Walkers my way, they can smell blood like hound dogs. Taking another gulp of vodka I fished out my small medicine kit, located the needle and thread, and started piecing together the wound. Finally after what felt like forever I was finished. Too tired to do much of anything else I fell asleep.

A jolt awoke me from my dreamless sleep. Startled I pulled aside the blanket covering my window and peeked out. It was dusk, but Walkers don't really care about time. A hoard of them limped and dragged their feet between cars and around piles of junk. They shouldn't be out this far! My heart raced I've seen hoards like this before, but never of this size. There were hundreds at least 200. Quickly I crowded my tiny frame into the floorboard of the driver's side. Breathing heavily wincing at the pain I caused. Glancing at my shoulder I groaned. Damn. I must've ripped my stitches while moving. I waited….and waited.  
>Pre-outbreak I hated waiting; it was the one thing that made me nervous, now it's one of the things I have left. Memories and emotions are all that I have. Memories of my family, friends, my first day of work, my first boyfriend, kiss, job interview, car…everything. Finally the shuffling and moaning of the dead ceased. If only they would stay like that.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading! let me know what you think and if things get confusing message me and I'll fix as for the typos and grammar mess up's sorry :( I dont really re-read them before I post just message me n I'll fix it :) thanks H2 **

**Disclaimer: I do not own TWD nor do I own it's characters arch's, or story lines just my own OC situations and ideas :)**

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><p><strong>Just a matter of time by Holly Holland <strong>

**_Chapter 2_**

Daryl Dixon was a man that never really savored the feeling of love. Maybe it was because he was never shown love, or perhaps because he never had a chance to experience it. No one really cares about a semi-racist, hot tempered 'redneck' that was abused as a child. He had to admit those criteria aren't the top four of a women's Mr. Dreamy list. Sensitive, kind, cuddling, lets-talk-about-our-feelings type yes, but that just wasn't him. He learned that it was best to just let it be. Merle socked him a good one in the face for asking what was wrong and why he was always angry all the time. Needless to say he learned his lesson. He kept quiet and stuck by his brother's side like a beaten puppy, what else could he do? Merle was all he had. Now that the world had gone to shit Daryl and Merle were literally thick as thieves. It wasn't like Daryl was incapable of taking care of himself, hell he could track a ten point buck from one end of Georgia to another. It was more of a I'll watch your sorry ass and I hope you have mine kind of deal. Which Merle usually does, when he wasn't high or chasing tail.

"Daryl wake up u's sorry ass." Jolting awake, Daryl instinctively reached for his crossbow. His brother stood at the foot of his bed, burly arms crossed, a disgusted look stretching across his face. Daryl eyed his attire his signature black sleeveless leather jacket, black stained shirt, dirty blue jeans, and hiking boots.

"What do ya' want, Merle?" Daryl mumbled throwing his arm over his eyes, a frown tugged on the corners of his lips.

"Ts' nearly light out, best get yer ass up n' track us ome' dinner. Goin' on a supply run, don't give 'em anything while I'm gone, ya' hear? We don't need no bitches, we look fer ourselves, the Dixon's no one else. Now get up ya' lazy ass, kick off your slippers and get ta' huntin'"

Without a word of protest, even though he had only just begun to get to sleep from a very late night of watch duty, he swung himself off the small bunk grabbed his gear and headed out.

It was a sweltering day in the quarry, the hot Georgian sun beat down on Daryl's bare arms, and sweat trickled down his cheek. Some rolled into his eyes; he brushed it away with a dirty hand. He watched silently as the supply group sped down the quarry road, a cloud of dusty was left behind. Daryl wiped his mouth with his rag he'd have to give Merle a piece of his mind when he came back about ordering him around. Grunting he made his way deeper into the forest, light on his toes and eyes trained on everything. He was going to bring home some good venison. The thought bristled him. Home. Where did that come from. That wasn't his home. Those people weren't his family. He had no family. All he had was Merle and that wasn't but a mutual understanding at best. After what seemed like hours a flicker of movement caught his eyes. It was a beautiful deer, a nice rack, soft coat, and big. A feral smile pulled the corner of his lips up. Hello gorgeous. He moved stealthily till he was a mere four feet from dinner. Swinging around his crossbow, he quickly pulled back the draw string set the arrow and aimed. Sunlight filtered through rustling leaves and momentarily blinded him. The sound of a cracking stick made him cruse, as his frightened dinner leap out of his sights, bounding off into the distance. Cursing he turned the crossbow toward the sound. It was a Walker. The Geek stumbled around making a ruckus growling and snapping his jaw's at him. Pathetic.

Half of its cheek was missing, exposing a bloody cheeks bone, stringy tendons, and half of his jaw. _"Shut up."_ In one swift moment he released the arrow. It was a perfect shot right between the eyes. Stomping over he jerked his arrow out of the skull of the Walker, flicked off brain matter and headed off to track his prey. He liked hunting, it gave him time to think and it reminded him of pre-outbreak days. The light breeze, hot glaring sun, sounds of the wild, and the smells all relaxed him. At the beginning he treated his new life like an extended hunting trip. Figured that everything would be solved easily, and he could go back to like it was before. Him doing his own thing and Merle getting in trouble, but after Atlanta and every other supposed refuge was decimated he knew there was no chance of life going back to the way it was. Shaking away useless thoughts he spotted his prey again in a small ravine a few yards away. Smiling he raised his crossbow again and fired. His arrow stuck right in the flank of his prey as instinct took over causing it to bolt again. Huffing, Daryl set after his prey once again. He was getting really tired of this. They'd best thank me for dinner tonight!

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><p>Sunlight filtered through my closed eyelids causing me to stir. If it wasn't for the pain in my shoulder I probably would have indulged in the illusion that today would be a normal day before the outbreak. I would wake up, do the morning routine, check on mom, and head off to work. It was years before the outbreak when mother fell sick…she two months and 4 days before the outbreak in the hospital bed, tubes and wires plugged into her skin both sucking and giving life to the frail women of 58 that was my mother. She was diagnosed with cancer when she was 52 and since I was her only real caretaker around I gave up college after high school to stay with her and help. She argued with me in the beginning, stubborn enough to get me accepted to the top nursing school in the state without me knowing a thing about it. However, I also inherited that stubbornness and was hell bent on making sure that she would be okay. She did save me from my past demons and gave me a new life. So, I put off college until her death. In a way I am grateful that my mother died before all this shit came about. I don't know if I would have the strength to put a bullet through her head. Shaking my head I decided that was enough. Revel in the future and don't dwell on the past she always used to say.<p>

Yawning, I sat up and inspected my shoulder. The wound was red, slightly swollen, and the stitches looked good. It wasn't infected. My teacher would have been so proud of me, I always messed up a few times on my stitching in class but now looking back on my work it looked like I had it done by a professional. Maybe it was the life and death situation that enhanced my skills? I allowed myself a small smile as I prepared for the rest of the day. In less than an hour I had everything around and ready to go items packed away, weapons loaded, and wounds cleaned. There were a few straggling walkers but nothing I couldn't handle if things got out of hand. It's the hordes that you have to worry about. It was always the hordes. Even before the outbreak I never liked crowds all that much. Now that everyone wants to take a nice bite out if you my fear of people has accelerated to all new heights. Letting myself only a moment to ponder that yesterday was my first birthday since the world went to shit, I quickly started my truck and headed out toward the only salvation I could think of. Atlanta. They had a broadcast out, before the world went completely dark, that Atlanta wasn't touched by whatever these godforsaken creatures were. They had food and freshwater, clothes, and protection. Everything a survivor of this apocalypse would want. Me including.

It was near nighttime and I was driving through the backwoods of Georgia a few miles from Atlanta, my mouth already watering for more than junk food, and my body itched for more than a quick rinse in an icy river. For the first time in what felt like months my lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. Forgetful of the world around me, I barely noticed the mammoth of a deer jump in front of me. In the nick of time I managed to swerve out of the way only to lose control of my truck. Time seemed to slow down in that instant. Like in all those movies everything was in slow motion except for my heart rate. My life flashed before my eyes the very instant the front of my truck slammed into the trunk of a tree. My first real birthday. Glass shattering. First crush. Constricting seatbelt. First kiss. The crunch of metal. First boyfriend. First sleep over. First rated R movie with my friends. Lightening pain on my forehead. Gasping breaths. Warm thick blood rolling down my head. First real love. Blurred vision. Shouting. Fierce pain in my shoulder. The first time he ever…More shouting, closer now. Mother…

"Hey!" It was a gruff voice clearly dipped in agitation. "Are ya stupid or somethin'! Drivin' like a bat out a hell?" Heavily soaked in a Georgian accent. Groaning, not able do much of anything else, I turned to look at the man. My vision was blurred, but I was able to make out the end of a sharpened arrow pointed at my head. "Ya bit?" The pain was dizzying, so intense it threatened to blacken my vision. "Hey ya bit'!" I managed to shake my head before unconsciousness slowly started to engulf everything.

The last thing I remember was the door being jerked open, a large burly arm reaching over and unbuckling my seatbelt and striking blue eyes


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer-I don't not own TWD or it's character I will try to put all the lines I have used from the tv in italics but if I mess up or forget tell me so I can I do own my own OC and to come situations/ ideas thanks for reading **

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><p><strong>Just a Matter of Time<strong>

**Chapter 3 **

He didn't know why he did it. He didn't know what come over him in that instant. Perhaps it was instinct or a serious lack of judgment, but he helped this stupid women; a woman who would've died if it wasn't for him. She crashed her truck into a tree only after managing to clip the prey he was tracking for well over a day and a half. He had to admit thought helping her was a very stupid and dangerous move and if Daryl was one thing it wasn't stupid. It was near nighttime and judging the rapidly darkening sky he would only be able to make it half way back to camp with this girl in tow. Plus, now that he thought about it, dressing the deer and harvesting the meat would put him a few more hours behind. Fully realizing the idiocy of his decision and grunted while staring down at the young women he decided to help. She was dirty, dark hair matted with blood and filth, blood soaked clothes; shirt torn around the middle exposing her sickly pale and thin stomach, dirt streaked jeans and body. She was every bit of what a survivor of this hell looked like.

Shaking his head Daryl ran a filthy hand through his short blondish hair thinking of what to do now. Eyeing the damaged truck, the deer, and the girl he made his decision. The truck wasn't too badly damaged that it didn't provide a good enough shelter for one night, granted the glass windows were shattered, the front of the red ford F150 was more than likely damaged beyond repair, and the passenger door was dented inward. Eclipsing the damages this was the best shelter he could think of for the moment and considering the rapidly approaching night, chilly temperatures and a hurt women there wasn't much of a choice, not if she didn't mind waking up in a tree in a stranger's arms. Daryl doubted that that was something this woman wouldn't want. Quickly jumping into action, he laid the unconscious women back into her truck and went to work camouflaging the truck with fallen branches and leaves. He knew that simply disguising the vehicle wouldn't deter walkers they can smell the living, but for now it would do to hide him and the girl from unwanted eyes. Not to mention the stock pile she had.

Taking inventory of the stock pile in the truck, he didn't want any of it lost or taken from his hands. Besides Merle would have his ass if he found out he let all these supplies go to waste. After doing that he quickly gutted and dressed the fresh deer meat. Realizing that cooking all the meat would take too long before it was darker than spilled ink outside; he securely wrapped the meat and buried it in a cooler in the ground. Starting a small fire near the truck so he could check on the women he fixed himself a can of beans and idly wondered what his big brother would do in this moment. He smirked then frowned realizing with a small grimace that his brothers intentions would include less than gentlemen motives. He's heard some of the charges his brother was sent to prison for. As long as he held to the morals his grandma beat into him regarding a lady he would never end up like Merle or his father. But no matter how disgusting the charge he was always there to bail Merle out so he could do it again without so much as a thank you. He figured that's what you do for kin no matter what.

Finishing his beans he put out the small fire and maneuvered himself inside the makeshift shelter, shut and locked the door preparing for a long possibly sleepless night. He glanced behind the seats at the young women now curled in the back seats. Her face was still bloody, as well as her shoulder. Aggravated he not so gently pulled the collar of her shoulder down and over exposing a bloodied shoulder. On further inspection he realized it was a well stitched wound and much to his relief not a bite. Shaking his head and scabbing a hand over his face while he cradled this crossbow in his lap Daryl spoke softly to the girl not really caring if she heard him or not.  
>"You'd best thank me ta morrow, women."<p>

The women still wasn't awake when the next day and Daryl grunted in annoyance. He wasn't prepared to carry her all the way back to camp, plus all the supplies, plus his crossbow, and not to mention protecting them. He leaned over the seats to shake her shoulder. "Hey you'd best wake up, I ain't waitin another day for ya. Wake up!" She didn't even budge. "Damn women." Sighing in both annoyance and exhaustion he not so quietly got out of the truck and started packing up. He found abundance of canned food, mostly beans and vegetables, over the counter medicine and to his glee a bag full of arrows, you name it this woman had it or a version of it. He found only a backpack and a few lightweight long sleeved shirts to haul the supplies in. He figured he could make some sort of back out of them and tie the sleeves over a shoulder or something. The only problem was the women. He was never the one to be that knight in shining armor carrying the princess to the castle…and he sure as hell wasn't about to start. He set all the supplies in a pile near the small put out fire he build yesterday and opened the backseat doors. Shaking her shoes and slapping her leg he demanded that she woke up. "Hey! Women! Damn it I don't got all day! Now wake yer ass up! Hey!" He distinctly heard her groan a name before becoming unconscious again. "Damn it!" That phrase had seem to be the top phrase since the world ended he mused. Frowning he slammed the door hoping that would jolt her awake and she would stop all this pansy ass sleeping around. The world ended, she can't afford to be sleeping. She would be dead if it wasn't for him. He paced around the open truck door thinking of what to do. He could just take the supplies and leave her here. He would lock the doors and leave her with a few supplies and medicine. It's every man for himself now a days he reasoned as he gathered the supplies and his crossbow. He culd head back to camp just before it was dark, gather his things and supplies and leave the group with his brother if he was back. He thought about ditching the group with his brother many times. This was his chance. He turned and started walking.

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><p>I awoke to a sharp pain in my head. "Oww..." Groaning I slowly opened them only to be faced with kind green eyes belonging to a worn slightly bruised face.<p>

"Oh your awake!" The women exclaimed eyes brightening and crinkling as a tentative smile graced her small lips. She had short cropped graying hair, with light colored shirt barely hiding more bruises that flowered over her aging skin.

"Where am I?" I cringed at the sound of my voice it sounded like my vocal cords were grated with sandpaper. Scared I started to get up but the pain on my head ceased any further attempts.

"You're safe. It's okay there are no walkers. I'm Carol. You are at our camp." Carol's voice was soft and kind. The kind of voice a mother would posses.

Groaning, I struggled to sit up with Carol's help. She protested saying I needed to rest and heal.

I shook my head "There is no rest for the living anymore." Carol frowned but helped me to my feet holding me up as I fought against the wave of dizziness.

"How did I get here? The last thing I remember...were blue eyes." Carol shifted from foot to foot clearly warring with herself. Suddenly screaming rung throughout the camp. Carol and I both jumped up and ran outside despite my shoulder and gashed head I still managed to keep up with the rest of the survivors. Two little children a boy and a young girl ran past me and into their mother's arms. The young girl ran to Carol who smoothed her blond hair with a shaky hand, the dark haired freckled boy ran into an equally dark and freckled women. She only stopped to grab heavy rock. Running into a walker even with a group was about the same as heading to a gun fight with a switchblade and expecting the gunmen to hand you a gun. It's better to have some sort of weapon, besides she didn't want to appear useless to the rest of the group she was hoping to stay with for a while.

We gathered around a walker devouring the neck of a deer with three arrows in its side. Strangely enough I recognized one of the arrows. It had green and yellow fletching a small 10 drawn on the shaft in white paint. That was my arrow! The tension seemed to lessen its reins on us once everyone realized that it was just one walker who was currently oblivious to our existence as it munched on its meal. A man walked around it, circling it a few times, this finally got the Walker's attention. It turned to stare at us, deciding who to devour next. Its clouded eyes were dull and bloodshot; its clothes would once remind us of a old but dedicated man of his work. Now it only served as a reminder of the lost souls and how suddenly the world was taken from us. I could barely look much more at it, I hated what it represented…a life I would never have…a world that was never going to return. Its arms and mouth was blood stained dripping fresh blood onto his already sullied clothes. The flesh around its mouth was decayed and eaten away exposing raw bone and the sinew of jaw muscles. The gagging of nearby women echoed my thoughts.

Suddenly, it seemed that the anger from all of the survivors burst forth like the pressure of a tight skinned grape. The men of the group jumped on the Walker beating it mercilessly as if with each strike their anger was relieved. It was like they were all saying with silent screams, glaring eyes, and the thudding of their weapons. How dare You! How dare you come in-to this Camp! Our Camp! This is Ours! The brutality of their actions both sickened me and echoed my own thoughts. I hated the fact that this creature was once a man, probably a husband, but I also understood their anger. I was angry too. I can relate. Finally an old man with a hat finished the job by cutting its head clean off.

The excitement of the moment quietly fizzled with the heavy exhales from the men and the silent blood drops dripping off their weapons to the ground. The tension was still high but not nearly as high as before. The alertness of the situation still held our focus but gradually loosened its grip.

Finally the old man spoke, _"I don't understand this is the first Walker we've seen up here." _

A dark curly haired man with sweaty toned skin spoke. _"Reckon they're runnin' outta food. They're startin' to venture out." _Venturing out? Out of where? The city? No it couldn't be possible? Could it? I leaned over to a nearby camper and asked about Atlanta. Her eyes immediately sadden and she whispered the worst five words of my life. _It belongs to the dead now!_ All my hope, all my happiness was sucked out of me. It couldn't be! Biting my lip I refused to let my tears fall...I would not mourn in front of these people. I don't need to be seen as weak.

Suddenly a rustling in the woods captured all of attention once again. The men raised their weapons once more, Walker blood now running down the length of their weapons. The dark curly haired man aimed his shotgun in the general direction of the noise and stalked forward. My heart kicked up and I glanced down at my rock. If this was a horde moving through I would need more than a rock to protect myself and help protect the others as well especially the children. I cringed…the children are always the worst.

"Sum of a bitch that was my deer!" A familiar gruff voice echoed accenting the anger with heavy stomping through the forest a man appeared from beside a rock. He appeared to be in his late 20's possibly early 30's but that could be on account of all the filth and sweat decorating his skin. He had forehead length brownish hair, although that could be the dirt too, a strong jaw lined with blonde scruff. He held a cross bow in his hand and a quill full of arrows strapped to his back. His eyes are what really struck me though, they were a clear water blue…striking to say the least.

Angrily he stalked over and kicked the Walker repeatedly in its side. "_Look at it all gnawed on by this __**filthy… disease bearin'…. Motherless… poxy bastard!"**_

The old man tried to calm him down by telling him that kick the dead Walker didn't help any but the old man's comment seemed to only fuel his anger.

"_What do you know about it old man why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back on Golden Pond."_ The man marched straight up to the old man nose to nose. I could feel the tension in the air. Sighing in aggravation he turned to stare down at his lost prey. _"I've been tracking this deer for miles, gonna drag it back to camp cook us up sum venison. What do you think? Think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" _Gesturing around the chewed on neck of the deer with one of the three arrows he pulled out of its flank.

The man with a shotgun resting on his shoulders shook his head looking both bored and superior. _"Man I would not risk that."_

Crossbow Man sighed again_. "It sa' damn shame. I got some squirrel, dozen or so that'll have to do." _He rose up a string of squirrel from around his shoulder. Suddenly the Walker's decapitated head started snapping his jaws at us. A girl a ways away from us muttered an 'oh god' before being escorted by her sister.

"_Come on people what the hell! Gotta be the brain don't you all know nothing?"_ With that he promptly shot the Walker through the eye.


	4. Chapter 4

** Disclaimer- i do not own TWD or it's characters just my own and her background thoughts and interactions within the situations and scenes you already know from the tv show :) **

enjoy!

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><p><em>"Merle...Merle! Get ya ugly ass out here!"<em> His gruff voiced echoed throughout the now silent campsite. I trailed along suddenly aware that I was being left behind as the others followed after him. I could feel the tension rising again, and spotted anxious glanced from survivor to survivor as they eyed the man with the intensity one would if they were watching a nervous lion. Something bad is going to happen, I could feel it. _"Got us some squirrel! Stew em up!"_ Who was Merle? My thoughts slowly drifted from one question to the next. Was he his friend? Brother possibly?

_"Daryl slow up a bit I need to talk to you."_ Shotgun man halted Daryl who was still stalking toward the camp scouting behind cars and in the campsite for Merle.

_"About what, Shane?"_ Ahh, so that was his name, I thought watching as Daryl slowed through his question

_"Bout Merle there's a problem in Atlanta."_ Shotgun-Shane stayed calm and composed, but the grip on his shotgun tightened slightly.

_"He dead?"_Daryl asked eyes downcast and voice hard, determined not to crack.

_"Not sure."_

_"He either is or he ain't!"_

_"There's no easy way to say this so ill just say it."_ A new man stepped forward. He had short black hair, large nose, bright blue eyes, and a bearded jaw. Before the out-break I would have been happy to notice his sheriff's uniform…now it only gripped my heart with icy fear. I swallowed, trying to catch my breath while breathing through my nose.

_"Who are you?"_ Daryl turned glaring at the man with suspicion and heated anger. His blue eyes narrowed and ablaze.

_"Rick grimes."_ The man stated simply.

_"Rick griiimes you got something you wanna tell me?"_ Daryl's southern drawl thickened with every passing minute. His fists tightened until his knuckles were bled white and lips thinned.

_"Listen your brother was a danger to us all…so I handcuffed him to a piece of metal…he's still there."_ I gasped truly surprised by the cruelty of Rick's actions. I may not know Merle, or Rick but no one should be handcuffed and left for dead.

_"Hold on,"_ He put a hand to his face rubbing his eye. _"Let me processes this …you saying I handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?"_

A pregnant silence swelled until Rick answered. _"Yeah."_

I noticed the anger aflame in his eyes before he attacked. He hurled the string of squirrels before lunging at Rick. Shane quickly subdued him, but they broke apart and Daryl reached around for a large hunting knife.

"Watch the knife!_"_ I blurted the words slipping through my lips like hot water. My sudden outburst seemed to shock all three of them because they stopped quickly enough to stare at me, surprise evident in their eyes. Shane was quick to recover however and struck Daryl, swiftly capturing him in a chock hold.

"_You'd best let me go!_" Hollered Daryl, fury still raging in his blue eyes.

_"Nahhh I think it's better if I don't."_

_"Choke holds illegal!"_

_"Yeah, you can file a complaint,"_ Shane sneered tightening his grip around Daryl's neck, Daryl struggled harder. _"Come on now I can keep this up all day."_ Rick slowly bent down next to Daryl and stared him in the eye.

_"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic do you think we can manage that?"_ Both Shane and Rick nodded to each other, before Shane let Daryl go. The man scrambled away from Shane and pointed at Rick with a threatening finger. Saying through body language that he was not quite finished with Rick.

_"Now what I did was not on a whim your brother does not work or play well with others."_ Daryl continued to glare at him as he slowly put away his knife.

_"It's not Ricks fault. I had the key. I dropped it."_ Another survivor slowly emerged from the background head hanging down with shame.

_"You couldn't pick it up!"_ Cried Daryl voice strained and threatening to crack.

_"I dropped it down the drain."_ The man mumbled before wiping the sweat off his brow, leaving behind more dirt on his already dark skin. Daryl slowly go up, eyes glaring wet daggers at the man.

_"Supposed to make me feel better? It don't!"_ Frowning I watched as Daryl threw dirt at the man's feet a sure sign of disrespect and hatred, still applicable even now. It didn't seem to register in the mans mind because he continued on without pausing.

_"Maybe this will…look I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him with a padlock."_

_"It's got to account for something."_ Rick said, attempting to smooth over the situation with cop like grace. Daryl wasn't having it though and quickly turned away waving a head in the air in dismissal.

_"Hell with all y'all!"_ Sadness and defeat saturated his tone. _"Just tell me where he is…so as I can go get him."_ I was going to offer my help to him when a women with curly dark hair spoke.

_"He'll show you aint that right._" Hurt sprinkled in her eyes as she stared at him, her lips pursed angry and hurt. Rick stared at the women before turning back to Daryl and the rest of the survivors.

"I'm going back…to Atlanta, Merle no matter how politically incorrect and ignorant he is deserves to be chained to the roof of a building waiting to die. I also left a bag of guns there that I didn't have time to grab, while Glenn was saving my life." Rick pleaded his case staring after the women who turned and headed into an ancient Winnebago slamming the screen door shut.

Shane stepped forward. "What bag of guns?"

"I cleaned out the cage back at the station. I have several handguns plus shotguns few hundred rounds of ammo. Plus one of our walkie talkie." Rick turned when he noticed that the women had stepped back outside. "It belongs to a man who saved my life, I promised that I would keep in touch. I have to warn him about the city."

_"Are you really willing to risk your life for redneck trash like Merle Dixon?"_

_"Hey! Choose your words more carefully."_ Daryl glared at Shane from across the fire pit while cleaning his arrows and disinfecting them in the fire. Shane snorted.

_"No, douche bag is what I meant."_

"No one deserves that, brother, no one. Especially now." Rick kept his ground. The women from before now spoke up.

_"But, Merle Dixon, that man wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire!_ Rick you just found us, your family…Me and Carl."

I noticed now that the rest of the group dissipated, more interested in the menial tasks of surviving than saving the life of a 'douche bag' and the crumbling of a family that just found each other. I temporarily tuned out to locate the short gray haired women from earlier and spoted her with a basket of clothes and sitting next to a small girl.

"Hey, thanks for helping me before. For saving my life and everything." I stretched out my hand noticing the small involuntary flinch. She smiled up at me and stopped folding, but didn't take my hand.

"Oh, it's no problem, but I didn't save your life." I frowned, retracting my hand. "Then how did I get here?"

She smiled softly eyes flowing past me and landing a little close to the ground to my left. I pivoted and found myself staring at the back of the man known as Daryl. "We were surprised to find you slung over his shoulder like a deer. Said he found you in a crash after that he just dumped you in the RV and left… I think he was upset that you hit his deer." When she noticed my puzzled expression she elaborated picking back up the garment and continued folding. "Heard him mumbling about it as he left." I nodded turning to thank her before heading over to an angry Daryl. I only made it a few feet before a small fight about who should assist Rick in going back to Atlanta stopped me.

The dark skinned man spoke first. "I should go, it was my fault anyway." Both Rick and Shane stopped him.

"I would prefer that you stay behind with me, T-dog. The group needs all the muscle it can get with Rick gone and most of our ammo low." Shane said at the same time Rick turned to a young Asian male. "And I would feel safer if you went with us Glen, and I'm sure Lori would feel safer too. You said so yourself that you're good at getting in and out of the city, plus you know the routes." Glen eyes landed on Lori who pleased with him non verbally.

Glen readjusted his hat before speaking. "Alright, I'll go, but we have to be quick. Daylight doesn't last very long these days." Daryl stood up throwing his crossbow over a shoulder.

Rick raised his voice. "Anyone else?" Silence draped across the camp like a heavy fleece blanket. No one offered, they just remained on their task with busy hands and lowered eyes.

"I'll go. I'm a doctor if Merle's hurt or dehydrated I can help." Suddenly everyone's eyes snapped up to meet mine. Astonishment, confusion and relief sprinkled everyone's reaction. Daryl slowly turned around at my voice his intense blue eyes capturing my attention instantly.


	5. Chapter 5

The three of us settled into a cube van, Glen in front, with Daryl and I in the back. Rick was talking with an old man whose name I learned was Dale, who was standing by a tall skinny man in a jumpsuit named Jim. From what I could overhear the RV needed a radiator hose and all this other junk. Before I could hear more of the engagement someone kicked my foot. My head shoot forward, only to find myself staring into striking blue eyes.

"Why are doing this? You don't know Merle or me." His voice was rough, scratchy yet as smooth as liquor.

I shrugged checking over the various knives I had strapped to myself and rechecked my gun. "You saved my life," Chocking the rifle I stared at him through the small scoop attached. "It's the least I could do. Besides if your brother needs medical attention I'm the girl for the job."

He merely arched a blonde eyebrow as I peered at him through the scoop my crosshairs dividing up his face. "I don't need yer sympathy. Nor do I need your ass slowin' us down neither." I dropped the gun glaring directly at him. Narrowing my eyes as he narrowed his. He's the type of man to not back down, but I'm the type of women to not back down either. I may have had a hard life, but if there is anything that my adoptive mother taught me it was to never back down.

"I won't slow 'yer asses down' if anything I'll be faster. Like I said, you need me, might as well get used to the idea." Glen turned around in his seat briefly to snicker and flash me a congratulatory smile for barking back at Daryl. Daryl just shoot him a glare cold enough to freeze anyone in place forcing Glen to quickly turn back around hunkering down in the seat, looking all like a scared kid should. Daryl wiped his lips with a red bandana.

"Jus' don't slow me down..." He trailed off pointedly staring at me silently asking my name with blue eyes.

"Just call me Phoenix. It's where I was born."

"In case ya didn't get da purtty lil memo, the world ended. I'd think I deserve at least a real name seein as I'm the man that saved yer sorry ass." Daryl sneered probably holding back a spew of curse words for a smart mouthed women like me behind those lips. Glen turned around again, curiosity sparkling in his black eyes.

"Mother always told me that a names a powerful thing and that I shouldn't talk to strangers. When i feel more comfortable I'll tell you my full name until the just call me Phoenix, Daryl."

"Whatever, girl." He grunted stood up, kicked the horn of the van, and hollered out at Rick.

"Let's Go! Don't got all day!" Hollering again Daryl promptly shut the back garage door of the truck bathing the two of us in semi darkness leaving only some of our faces to be revealed to each other. He sat down but tapped an impatient foot. If there was anything that bugged me more it was someone who couldn't sit still. It felt like they were just old restless souls that didn't know how to sit back and watch the world well... Go to hell.

"Hey, Daryl it's not girl it's Phoenix." My remark earned an intense blue eyed glaring contest from the man until Rick clamored in and slammed the door shut. The loud bang from the door snapped Daryl from his concentration like an overstretched rubber band.

"Bout' damn time, you chat more than two ol' ladies at church." A few minutes and a dozen glares from Daryl later we were off. This would be my first time heading into the lost refugee city. I was nervous and a little frightened but the gun in my hands helped comfort me. I was angry mostly a little disheartened that my once thought safe haven was now crawling with the dead quite literally.

"When did Atlanta fall?" Risking the question I glance around to everyone. "Last time I heard the broad cast was a few weeks ago."

Glen was the first to speak. "It was just a week after the initial outbreak, I barely made it out alive. A few hours after that they started bombing the city."

" sound's 'bout right." Daryl muttered more than half under his breath and from his demeanor I made the conclusion that Daryl liked to be by himself.

"I had the bad luck of waking up after the world ended. Didn't know what the hell was going on...went home all the pictures were gone. So I knew Lori and Carl were somewhere. Heard about Atlanta from Morgan and his son, they saved me after his boy nearly killed me with a baseball bat. Told me I should go there...said if my family were alive they would be there. Never expected the city to be overrun...rode in on a damn horse." Rick recounted, his knuckles bleeding white as he gripped the steering wheel.

"Cowboy got himself trapped in a tank. Lucky for him I know the streets." Glen joked attempting to lighten the mood, but Daryl was determined to sulk.

"Wouldya hurry it up, your drivin like a cop. Ain't no need for speed limits anymore." Daryl brooded in the darkness rubbing a grim covered finger over his lips. As I watched him, I wanted to make some comment about if he liked what be taste, but I figured it wasn't the greatest of times to make jokes like that especially with an already angry Daryl. Maybe later after we find his brother and are back in camp, when it's less noticeable that the world has gone to shit.

In a hop, skip, and just a jump we were hitting the outskirts of torched Atlanta proud southern city for the dead. I was bitter over the fact that the one in a few savior city around was seized by snapping jaws and rotten flesh, then after one bite the military abandoned all attempts to save civilization and focused instead on their safe underground bunkers. I guess life has never been kind to me before so why would've expected it to be when the dead came to life again? Daryl was eager swiftly dragging the back door up and jumping out all before we stopped completely. Daryl was pacing the train tracks we had stopped on like a nervous animal worrying a dirty nail between his teeth.

Quietly we all headed back into the hell that was Atlanta, we opened the chain-link fence surrounding the area and walked straight on in prepared to meet the demons, but I wasn't scared. Nervous yes, scared not so much, I would have never thought that I would be killing people...corpses, when I was younger I thought I would be saving lives by now. And I guess in some way I am by helping Merle and killing walkers...one less snapping jaw around I guess.

" What should we get first the guns or Merle?" I asked focused more as we neared the city. " What's the game plan exactly?"

Daryl snapped his head back at me so fast I swore I heard his neck crack. " We are not even havin' this discussin'! Merle first then the guns."

Rick turned to Glen. "What do you think?" The man briefly glanced at Daryl who gave him a heated glare before he turned back to Rick. The answer was clear just by the look Daryl had given. "Daryl's right we can swing by to grab the guns on our way out, but we better make it fast it won't stay sunny for long."

We all quickly glanced at the sky spotting the slowly but dying sunlight. With revitalized energy we hastened our pace.


	6. Chapter 6

Rick and Glen slowed a bit till it was only Daryl and I leading and a pregnant silence enveloped us until Daryl's gruff voice popped it. "Don't get in the way of Merle, he's probably still hyped up on drugs. You'd best keep your distance cuz I ain't prepared to carry his white ass all th' way ta camp." He didn't so much as look at me as he advised me, instead his eyes were trained around him, surveying the area with crossbow steadily poised if a walker popped out of nowhere.

"How am I supposed treat him if he's dangerous." I asked confused by Daryl's statement.

"Just don't piss him off, he ain't one to take kind to lady folks. 'specially when they taken care of im'." He turned to look at me then, his blue eyes glinted in the sunlight as he swiftly nodded at me sending an unspoken message, _you'd best listen to me_. And I nodded back to assure him that I got the message.

"Were almost there guys, just past this alley, and up the fire escape." Glen whispered catching up to Daryl and I.

Rick stepped beside me and sunlight glinted off his badge. I tensed clutching the rifle tightly to my chest and swallowed hard. _This man wasn't going to hurt me…he wasn't him._ Daryl glanced at me, eyeing my white knuckles and tense demeanor.

I flinched when Rick whispered to me. His breath was too close…he was too close. I fought the urge to run. "It's okay, we can handle ourselves when it comes to Walkers. You're safe."

I swallowed again, his two words echoing in my ears. _You're safe…you're safe….shhhh you're safe…safe…_ I shook the memories off me, wanting nothing more than the oil like thickness that invades my mind to be cleansed.

"Okay." I didn't really know what else to say. Rick looked like a nice man, he seemed genuinely concerned for me, but so did _he._ Maybe it was his apparel that made me easy; _the glint of his shiny, cold, badge, the rough scratchy material of his shirt, the terrifying snap of buttons._

"Hey! Come on we don't have all day!" Daryl's rough voice startled me from the living nightmare like a bucket of cold water. My head snapped up to meet all three of the men's stares. A pair of brows were furrowed with worry, the other merely wrinkled in annoyance. I swallowed down the anxiety and hurried forward, griping the rifle closer to myself while muttering a soft 'sorry'.

Cold blue eyes glared at me and seared into my back as I marched forward. "Told ya' not to slow my ass down."

Tossing a glance behind me I eyed him. "Seems to me Daryl, that you are slowing us down. Seeing as my ass is ahead of yours." Turning around I marched forward shrugging off his icy glare.

I heard Glen laugh, and maybe if I would have looked I would have found Rick smiling and a seething Daryl. "She got you good man." Glen's banter only earned him a gruff 'shut up' from Daryl as he stomped his way past me.

Daryl led us stealthily past a few walkers, who were distracted by the remnants of what appeared to be a horse. The rotten stench of the walkers and weeks old decaying flesh, baked in the scorching Atlanta sun, finally made its attack on my senses. The putrid smell assaulted my nose and burned my eyes till they watered. I choked back a gag, but that only made it worse as bile steady gathered in the back of my throat.

The drawn out moaning and the shuffling of a walker caught our attention. It was a woman with straggly black hair, eyes wide and glazed with death and hunger, and her lower jaw was missing as chunks of decaying flesh desperately hung to her worn face. I gagged again desperately trying to hold back the bile burning the back of my throat.

Daryl approached the walker with disdain quickly raising his crossbow.

"Damn, you are one ugly skank." Was her eulogy before a well aimed arrow pierced her brain and put her out of misery. The squelching sound of it penetrating her skull pushed me over the edge as vomit spewed from my tight lipped mouth. As I doubled over to empty my already empty stomach, I couldn't help but wish that I could actually vomit food instead of pure stomach acid. I took a few seconds to straighten myself, and when I did all three men were staring at me. Two with worry, and sympathy and the other with disbelief and annoyance, like he couldn't believe that I would hurl at time like this.

"Sorry…first time in a major city." I mumbled my apologies and wiped the bile from my lips with the back of my hand. Two nodded with apologetic smiles, and Daryl just turned and scouted the area for more walkers. A few seconds passed before we hastily moved again our adrenaline pumping even faster now as we stomped up the narrow metal stairs to the roof.

"See T-dog chained the door. There is now way walkers could have go to him." Glen explained cutting the thick padlock and chain of the door. They loud clang they produced echoed through the hall and reverberated through my ears.

"You'd best pray he's still alive. Or you're gonna wish I was dead!" Glen shrank back from menacing blue eyes and jumped when Daryl kicked the door open.

"Merle!" Daryl's gruff voice echoed over the roof top and bounced off nearby buildings. We all held our breath for an answer, but we didn't expect the answer we received. Silence…nothing but the shuffling and moaning of the dead.

"Merle!" Daryl tried again racing over to a small set of stairs the arched over large industrial pipes.

"Daryl we're not the only ones he-" Rick harshly whispered as we quickly caught up to him, but was quickly silenced by the agonizing yell the clawed its way from Daryl's throat.

"No!" I sucked in my breath as the scene before us, gagging at just the thought of it. Merle had…severed his own hand off and the action reminded me of an animal caught in a trap, forced to chew its limb off to survive. Baked blood painted the surface of the handcuffs, and glinted off the dull hacksaw a few inches away. A pile of blood coagulated underneath the bloody handcuffs.

"NO!...NO!" Anguish, and sorrow cracked his voice as he paced the roof like an angry animal. Anger and hatred scrunched his face and pain gathered in his eyes.

"NO!...No!" I bit my lip, the pain etched in his voice nearly gathered tears in my own eyes. His fists balled up automatically as he continued pacing the roof in angry quick strides.

Rick, Glen and I slowly stepped off the metal stairs our own disbelief crippling our vocal cords. Rick a few steps away and Glen behind me. Then suddenly he snapped, like a rubber band pulled to tightly. With a feral growl Daryl twisted and aimed his crossbow directly as me. Rick pulled his gun and aimed it at Daryl, and we all three stood there weapons drawn with a shaky aim. I had my rifle trained on Daryl, his crossbow locked on me and Rick's gun aimed at Daryl.

"If it wasn't for you, I could've gotten to him sooner!" Daryl yelled again his breathing ragged and unsteady. I could hear him fighting not to break down, refusing the let himself be weak in a moment that he felt he needed to be strong. My grip tightened on my rifle, my hands were shaking.

"Daryl put it down!" Glen shouted from behind me. Daryl's fiery blue eyes merely flicked his way then locked onto my own again, his breathing was heavy and short, but full of rage. A few minutes passed with nothing but silence and heavy breathing.

"I won't hesitate I don't care if every walker in the city hears it. Put…it…down." Rick steadied his aim as he warned Daryl, his eyes never wavering from him.

I watched as Daryl's face crumbled; his eyes shut and squeezed with pain, lips pulled down in the beginnings of a choked mourning. After what seemed to be forever and a moon, Daryl relented lowing his weapon and turning away rubbing at his face.

"Do you have a doo-rag or something?" He asked turning to Glen, who in turn searched through his backpack and handed him a piece of material.

Daryl cleared his through, bent down near his brother's severed hand, and gingerly picked it up by the pinky. "I-uh guess the hacksaw was too dull for the handcuff." He swallowed thickly as his voice cracked a little. Eyeing the severed limb he muttered to himself before ceremoniously wrapping the hand in the cloth. He stood up, looking around like he didn't know what to do with the cloth coffin. Gesturing to Glen he moved to carefully stuffed the hand into his backpack. Glen's face paled, his lips were pulled into a tight grimace.

"He…uh must've used a tourniquet. Maybe his belt…there-ah would be a lot more blood if he didn't." Daryl continued reigning in his emotions by talking his way through it and swallowing down his hurt in thick gulps. With that said Daryl took off and followed the droplets of blood.


	7. Chapter 7

HOLY POOPBALLS its been a while hasn't it sorry! D: life has gotten in the way once again O.o i accidently uploaded my entire plot because i forgot to put it on a different page O.O i think i had a heart attack i just took it off! holy crap! D:

A/N I just wanted to take the time to tell all my readers and reviewers that I love them! And thank you sooo much Dalonega Noquisi, Davee, LadyLecter47, INFINITY TO BEYOND, HeavensWeatherHellsCompany , heartmitosis, Undertaker's Wife…for reviewing! Thank you acoats1, Angel Reckless, BlackLaceRaven, core013, HeavensWeatherHellsCompany, INFINITY TO BEYOND, Twistergirl14 for adding my story to their favorites! :D Thank you Alilley, Dalonega Noquisi, Davee, deisel jones, INFINITY TO BEYOND, kikyohater220, LadyLecter47, LittleMissBlackBoots, PaganButterfly, glara, ragna acanami, ruthie-r89, snm1991, The Clairvoyant, WeTheMonsters, XxAnimeTechnoFreakxX for adding my story to their alerts! :D thanks so much my lovely readers! And thanks to anyone else I missed love y'all

Dislcaimer: well sadly TWD and its characters/situations/place/anything that seems familiar is not mine …sadly but Phoenix is mine :D so keep ya paws off 'er…thanks!

"_He…uh must've used a tourniquet. Maybe his belt…there-ah would be a lot more blood if he didn't." Daryl continued reigning in his emotions by talking his way through it and swallowing down his hurt in thick gulps. With that said Daryl took off and followed the droplets of blood. _

Following after Daryl, Rick and Glenn murmured between themselves at a low hum so they wouldn't disturb the angry brother hunter.

"That's a lot of blood. Do you think Merle is still alive? He'll be pretty pissed to see us." Glenn whispered frantically eyeing forward to Daryl to make sure Daryl hadn't heard him.

"Merle's a tough son of a btich. Hell ya could feed 'em a hammer 'n he'd shit out nails!"

Glenn glanced at me a little surprised that the hunter could hear him. I shrugged my shoulders, I wasn't too surprised if he's the proclaimed hunter then he should have good ears.

"Anyone can die from blood lose." Rick said pessimistically.

"He's right." I earned a menacing glare from Daryl, "He will need medical attention right away when we find him." Daryl didn't say anything as we marched forward traveling deeper into the building and through what looked to be offices. We passed two dead walkers and Daryl huffed, smugly smiling back at us.

"Had enough in him to take out these bastards one handed"

"What's that smell?" Glen asked, his olive skin paling as we entered an industrial kitchen.

"Burning flesh. I had to work a small bit in the burn clinic at the hospital, you get used to it after a while." Not completely a lie, I had intermediate knowledge on burns but nothing extravagant needed to deal with life threatening burns.

"He cauterized the stump." Rick supplied while holding up a press the cook would use on meats. I reminded me of my first job a Joe's Burgers. That thing came in handy when rush hour hit, I could still smell the grease and hear the meat sizzling. I smiled as nostalgia greeted me like an old friend. Frowning, as the smell of cooked flesh wafted into my nostrils, I was reminded nostalgia would be nothing but a haunting memory. I would never have one of Joe's Burgers again. I would never have another one of my mother's sweet ice teas, or talk to my best friend Samantha, or hear her laugh. I would never see Luke either. I would never hear his laugh, or run my fingers through his hair, or feel his warmth again.

"Don't take that out on faith, Daryl anyone can die from blood loss." Rick argued, his voice firmly pulling me out of nostalgia's embrace. I must've missed what Daryl said initially.

"Didn't stop him from bustin out of here." Daryl stalked to a broken window.

I frowned, "Why would he do that? They can smell the blood. He's not very handy with just one hand." My input received yet another heated blue eyed glare.

"He's doin' what he's gotta' do. Survin, thinks he's by 'imself far as he knows." Daryl's Georgian drawl thickened the more agitated he got and my cheeks burned.

"So he's just wondering around the street with an injured arm, possibly passing out. Sounds like your brother ain't as smart as you chalk 'em up to be."

"Don't ya talk bout' my brother that way! 'Sides better than bein' lef' to rot by you sorry pricks!" I stepped back but narrowed my eyes. Daryl was dangerous and I wasn't about to prod his anger. He quickly sidestepped and cornered Rick anger seemed to roll off of him in waves.

"And you couldn't kill 'em. Not so worried 'bout some dumb dead bastard."

"What about a thousand dead bastards. Different story?"

"Take a tally, do whatever you want. I'm gonna get him." As Daryl went to move Rick gently raised a hand against his chest causing Daryl to jump back like Rick's hand was on fire.

"Keep your handsoff-"

"Look we'll help you look for Merle, but only if we keep a level head." Daryl nodded, swallowing whatever he was going to say. Rick's cop-gaze bore into Daryl. "Think you can do that?" Daryl nodded eyes glaring back, defiant submission swirling in each blue eye.

"We need to get those guns first, we'll be better prepared to find Merle and treat him if he's in any kind of trouble." Rick and Glenn nodded while Daryl just glared.

"So much as for gettin my brother first." He spat eyes narrowing even more than what I thought was possible.

"The circumstances changed the moment your brother decided to chop off his hand."

"Look I can do this I'm quick on my feet. In and out. If we are in a group we are noisy, and slow." Glenn explained adamant about the quick grab and go plan he mapped out on the tilted floor. Rick seemed hesitant at least and repeated again that Glenn should consider taking someone with him.

"Fine. Here's the plan. Daryl and I will be in this alley and you and Pheonix will go to this alley, I sneak around here grab the guns." Glenn explained tracing the map.

I tensed when Glenn announced Rick and I would be alone in an alley. "Why that alley? Why do I have to go with Rick?" My heart started to beat faster as the images once again haunted me through closed eyes.

"Your knives are quieter, and if things go bad your rifle will give him more ammo. That way I have two quiet weapons in each direction if I need it."

"Yeah, but why do I have to go with-"Daryl quickly interrupted me earning a curt glance from me.

"If it's 'bout bein' quiet, I'll go with Rick n' the Girl can go wit' you." We eyed him questionably. _Is he really spearing me? _Daryl merely shrugged seeming to be unconcerned with the whole situation. " 'sides I can shoot farther wit' my crossbow. Ya gonna need that if your runnin' from em'. The girl's a short range, n' if it gets real bad ya got ta' fence. Could close them n' get them through the holes."

Glenn nodded before standing up and dusting off his jeans. Daryl moved his hands steadily glued to his weapon toward the window and looking up.

"Okay let's make this quick. Let's get the guns, Merle, and get back to camp." We all nodded agreeing with Rick. I held back a bit waiting until Rick and Glenn were a little ways ahead of Daryl and I, before I hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder. Daryl turned his head quickly and eyed me. His blue eyes were turbulent at best, twisting and growing darker with each second that passed.

"I just wanted to say thank you again. For trading spots and saving my life." He just grunted, before turning back. I frowned.

"I was expectin' at least a your welcom'." I mumbled only half hoping Daryl had heard me.

"Don't expect anythin'. I don't give no your welcomes so don't ask fer one." He shot back voice low and hard. It reminded me of nothing of whiskey then. It only reminded me of fish, I always hated fish. Not the taste, the feel.

My heart was racing, as I hesitantly stepped down onto one of the many rungs of the fire escape ladder. I had always hated heights.

"Well on the bright side if the Walkers don't get us then the fall will." Glenn antagonized my fear further with his 'glass half-full' attitude. I was prone to believing that everything, no matter how screwed up the situation was, would be okay sooner or later. I would ever dare go as far as saying that even this would turn around. Though, I wasn't as delusional to believe that nothing would be changed, everything would. Knowing that nothing would be the same as before helped keep me on edge and sane.

"You know you're not really helping my hatred for heights." It was true I wasn't really scared, I just hated heights. I stared at the bright blue sky as I made my slowly made my way downward. Glenn laughed then apologized.

"You're almost there; just a few more and you'll be kissing the ground."

"Let's just hurry up. I don't mind going up, I just hate going down." A sudden fit of laughter caught me off guard and I glanced down to find the Asian hunched over desperately trying to hide his laughter. Curiosity quickly conjured my hatred for heights and in a matter of seconds I was beside Glenn.

"Shhh! What are you laughing at?"

"You said 'going down'." He rasped face glowing redder and redder. Lightly slapping him on the shoulder, he turned apologizing with a grin stretched across his face.

"Sorry again, let's go." We quickly surveyed the area, luckily no walkers heard Glenn giggle fit, and crouched behind a dumpster. Hitching my rifle higher on my shoulder, I listened and nodded as Glenn reiterated the plan. "Just make sure, to cover me."

"Don't worry, kid I got ya'." He smiled and slipped around the corner. I was waiting for Glenn to get back when a soft shuffling caught my attention. Jumping into action I turned knife poise and ready to strike into the soft decaying flesh of a walker's brain. However I didn't meet the decomposed gooey flesh of a Walker, I meet a thinned tanned face of a young boy. He was startled; eyes wide and a fresh sheen of sweat coated his paling face.

"Oh, I'm sorry I thought you were a walker." I slowly lowered my knife, but his eyes stayed on the rifle still clinging to my back. No sense in using a gun so close to the city when I have a knife. "Hey! Did you happen to see a Redneck around named Merle?" The man backed away as I advanced afraid I would hurt him.

"¡Ayúdeme!"

"No, No it's okay!"

"¡Ayúdeme!" He yelled again. I approached him fast quickly clapping a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up! Do you want to attract every walker in the city?" I hissed. He was really pissing me off being so loud. Suddenly I was thrown back, my back hit the corner of the large metal garbage container. I cried out in pain, I could feel thin ribbons of hot blood roiling down my back. Someone pulled me back up gripping my upper arms painfully. The man was most definitely Hispanic, which quickly became evident when he was yelling at me in Spanish. I couldn't even make out what he was saying because the pain in both my arms and back blacked out my hearing. While the other man was helping the boy up and speaking rapidly again in Spanish, I noticed the startled face of Glen.

"Oh shit!" Glen was frozen for a brief second before he jumped on the man that had me by the arms. He climbed on him like a monkey, lean arms and legs wrapped around the Hispanic man. The second Hispanic man quickly leapt into action beating and pounding on Glenn. Still half dazed my eyes locked onto the forgotten bag of protection. Guns and ammo are more valuable now than ever. We needed them. Lurching forward I grabbed the bag, but just as my fingers grazed the handles I was pushed forward. The squealing of tires caught my attention, behind me one of the Hispanic men shouted for them to hurry up.

"Pheonix!" Glen shouted just as I was thrown over the shoulders of one of the large men. Before I knew it I was thrust into the back of a car. I fought against the grabbing hands until one man knocked me unconscious.

If there was one thing you would want to avoid now a days it would be being unconscious. Now taking a long unintentional siesta could mean your death. A nasty walker could sneak in and just take a large chunk out of your leg before you even remembered the dead were walking around. I was relieved to wake up in a room with a view, a view of an elderly lady mumbling about to herself and shuffling from bed to bed. I moved to sit up, the room dove in drunked directions, but before I could fall backwards the old women noticed me.

"Estas Bein?"

"Sí me siento muy bein."

When she asked me if I was okay I quickly told her that I was feeling fine. She nodded and moved away at the same time a young man entered. He rapidly asked the elderly women when I had awaken and if I said anything, but I beat her to the punch.

"Not too long ago, I was dizzy but that passed. Where am I? Where are my friends?" A look of shock passed over his handsome but tired face. The elder women quickly left sensing a moment to be alone was needed. "I worked a few years at a local clinic for the poverty inclined; I picked up some Espanol there. It's a little rusty though…since well you know."

"I'm glad to hear you're feeling better its bright news in a dark world." He sat down at the edge of my bed. I shrunk back against the headboard. I didn't quite trust him. "You're at a retirement home."

"A retirement home?"

"Si, it's as secure as we can make it. We've fought for it. Our families are here, mi abuela, mi familia. My cousins grabbed you as ransom for the guns your friends were stealing."

"So I'm going to live. You can't have a dead ransom."

The man laughed then speaking so fast and broken Spanish that I couldn't understand. "We only kill those who try to take a bit out of us."

"I think we can all relate to that motto."

Suddenly a little girl came running through the hall and into the small room.

"Uncle, abuela dice que está aquí!"

"Ir con los otros, Sobrina."

While they talked I studied the little girl. She had her hair neatly braided in two braids on either side of her head. I smiled when I recognized the pink hair ties that resembled the ones I used to wear in my own hair when I was her age. She had an upturned nose with wide chocolate brown eyes. She was dressed like she was ready for school; pink shirt, cute white skirt with pink leggings underneath, and a neat small Dora the Explorer backpack strapped over her shoulders. She was adorably average and if it wasn't for the haunted look in her eyes I would've almost believed that the world hadn't ended. The little girl glanced at me briefly before nodding and scampering away.

"My friends are here aren't they?" He nodded his head as an answer. "Can I see them?"

"Only if you think that you can convince them to give us those guns. Protection is what we need."

"We need that too. I'll see what I can do…" I paused waiting for his name.

"My names Guillermo, but my friends call me G."


End file.
